


Sucker-Punch

by sparklyfaerie



Category: Emma Approved
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-09
Updated: 2014-02-09
Packaged: 2018-01-11 18:16:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,519
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1176290
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sparklyfaerie/pseuds/sparklyfaerie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Emma Woodhouse prides herself on two things: Firstly, that she knows what she wants out of life—and secondly, that she knows just how to go about getting it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sucker-Punch

**Author's Note:**

  * For [next12exits](https://archiveofourown.org/users/next12exits/gifts).



> For Rachel, who agreed with me that there isn't nearly enough EA fics. Hope that shoulder heals well.
> 
>  
> 
> Disclaimer: I claim no rights to Emma Approved or its characters.

Emma Woodhouse prides herself on two things:

Firstly, that she knows what she wants out of life—and secondly, that she knows just how to go about getting it.

So, when Harriet tells her that she’s in love with Alex, the realisation of her own feelings blindsides her. It had never occurred to her that there might me something in life that she’d want but never be able to have—and as Harriet lists the reasons she believes Alex to return her feelings, Emma listens in abject horror as she watches everything she thought she knew about herself come crashing to the ground.

Later, over a glass of wine and assuring her father that she wasn’t feeling at all out of sorts—that she’d eaten a late lunch at the office and would have dinner later that night—she will muse that it began when she was fifteen.

* * *

Five and a half years her elder and five grades above her, Alex had already graduated high school when Emma entered the eighth grade. He had gone off to Stanford University at the beginning of the year, and she had not seen him until he returned for the summer. He had returned just in time to join their families in celebrating Emma’s fifteenth birthday, and Emma recalled privately thinking that the year away had done him good.

At the age where ‘college’ was synonymous with ‘cool’, Emma had bombarded Alex with questions about college life. He regaled her with stories of frat parties and underage drinking, to both her disapproval and amusement. Announcing her fascination with college life as ‘adorable’, Alex had reached over and ruffled her hair—and then, the strangest thing had happened.

Emma had blushed.

Emma had never blushed around Alex before; she had known him since she was only hours old. He had been a fixture in her life for as long as she could remember—a voice of reason to combat against the overindulgence from her father; Emma had a voice in her head that sounded suspiciously like him. (It was one that she took pleasure in dismissing and proving wrong.) So, sitting there and thinking about how interesting he’d become over nine months away, Emma squashed the uncomfortable feeling in her stomach. He was her best friend in the whole world and she hadn’t seen him in months. She was allowed to find his life interesting.

But it kept happening.

Another time, she had preened in the bathroom mirror for an inordinate amount of time (even for her) as she and Izzy had prepared to go to the movies with both Knightley boys. When Alex had looked her over and announced that she looked nice, there had been a pleasurable little twinge somewhere between her heart and stomach.

He came over a few days later to help her father fix a wonky shelf in his study. Emma—not yet vegan at the time—had prepared a light lunch of tuna salad and homemade lemonade; she brought it out into the dining room as the two men emerged, serving them with casual ease, belying the unexplainable butterflies in her stomach. And if Alex had noticed how her smile became stiff and slightly panic-y after he’d smiled at her and squeezed her shoulder in thanks, he hadn’t mentioned it.

* * *

She admitted to herself as she visited the Knightley house the day before he returned to Stanford. that she had a crush on her older friend. She thanked her lucky stars that Izzy and John hadn’t figured it out—they would have told him for sure, and that would have made things awkward. As it was, the feelings she’d been experiencing hadn’t in any way hindered the ease of their friendship. He’d still affectionately ribbed her and she still shot back with an easy smirk and a raised eyebrow—she was convinced by the time he came back the next summer, she would be well and truly over it and he’d never have to know.

 (She wasn’t. But she’d never tell anyone else that.)

* * *

Over time, she thought it had faded. By her Junior year, she’d stopped getting butterflies and blushing in his company and had landed her first serious boyfriend.

Mike had been a senior with big dreams. She liked his ambition; he wanted to get an MBA and take over his father’s company when he got older. When Emma had mentioned her friend Alex who was currently getting work experience before applying to earn his own MBA, she failed to notice Mike’s eyes darken or the frown mar his features. When, six months later, he’d complained that she’d ditched him for her regular Friday night dinner with her family and the Knightleys, she had narrowed her eyes at him.

“I’ve always spent Friday nights with my family.” She’d said in a low, threatening voice. “What does it matter?”

Mike had crossed his arms. “They’re not _all_ your family. John’s dating your sister, so that I get, and Mr and Mrs Knightley are your Dad’s friends. By why is _Alex_ Knightley there?”

Emma blinked at him. “He’s our friend.” She cocked her head in confusion. “Mine and Izzy’s and Dad’s. What does Alex have to do with anything?”

“You ditched me last Saturday to hang out with him.” He muttered petulantly. “You’re _always_ ditching me to hang out with him.”

Emma’s jaw dropped. “Are you jealous?” She scoffed. “Seriously? Alex is like six years older than me. We grew up together—he’s my best friend. There’s nothing to be jealous over.”

“I thought _Annie_ was your best friend.” He argued.

Five minutes and the beginnings of what could have turned into a spectacular shouting match later, Emma dumped Mike and headed over to Alex’s apartment to watch a movie and vent about teenaged boys. He had wrapped an arm around her when she’d recounted an edited version of the argument—she did not, _ever_ , mention that he himself had been the subject of said argument—and had told her that guys like Mike were a dime a dozen. Soon, he said, she’d find someone better, and she would forget all about him.

* * *

“I have an idea.” She announced around a mouthful of avocado carbonara when she was twenty-two.

She had recently decided that veganism appealed to her and Alex was one of the few people who took her seriously, going out of his way to make sure that he had vegan substitutes for common food items—almond milk instead of cow’s, vegan margarines instead of butter, specifically buying and preparing vegan meals when he knew she was staying for dinner, among other things. She used this knowledge to bolster her courage in approaching him about her plans, hoping that he would be on board with her—or, at least, be able to help her find someone who was.

He listened attentively when she outlined her plans to start a matchmaking service—he’d quirked an eyebrow when she mentioned that she wanted to label it ‘Emma Approved’, but had otherwise offered no comment until she had run out of steam and asked him what he thought. He used measured tones to outline all the problems with her venture, in no way making it sound as if he disapproved of the idea in _theory_ ; she had sighed and had begun to tell him not to mind when he’d finished his assessment with the offer of helping her shape a viable plan. If they could work something out, he said, he would help her as much as he could.

It wasn’t until she was looking through the paperwork for the Highbury Partners Lifestyle Group a year and a half later that she’d asked him to partner with her. The happy glow that spread through her when he’d instantly agreed had, she was positive, to do with the fact that he was helping her make her dreams come true. It had absolutely nothing to do with his smile.

(She wasn’t sure she could say the same about the familiar twinge in her stomach that she’d thought she’d successfully beaten down six years before.)

* * *

As they’d worked together for the next three and a half years, Emma had thought that, once again, the feelings had subsided.

Now, sitting in her office as Harriet rambles on about how she’s almost _positive_ Mr Knightley likes her back, Emma feels like she’s going to be sick. Her face feels hot and her stomach twists into uncomfortable knots as she tells Harriet that she has somewhere to be, and you know, you should take the rest of the day off. Tomorrow, too. It’s been a slow week. Start your weekend early.

She passes Alex’s office on her way out, thinking about how stupid she’s been; she doesn’t stop when he calls after her to ask where she’s going. She’s sure Harriet will tell him that she’s gone on her way out.

* * *

(A few weeks later, snuggled into his side as Alex rests his arm across her shoulders while they watch a movie, it's so easy and natural that she wonders that she never saw this coming.)


End file.
